


Book 1: The Philosopher's Stone

by Madzie2000



Series: Mert Goldsworth of Slytherin House [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, F/M, Major Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Philosopher's Stone Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-10-17 05:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10587528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madzie2000/pseuds/Madzie2000
Summary: Mert arrives on platform 9 and 3/4, on her own without a hope in the world.After spotting a stout, red-haired woman, her children and a boy with black, messy hair, Mert's life would change forever... from that moment on.





	1. Off to Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> I will be following these three rules:
> 
> 1\. There can only be Canon-typical Violence  
> 2\. Mert's actions will not change what happens in the overall story of the books  
> 3\. Only small details will be taken from the movie - I want to show off the books in all their glory :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mert's adventure begins on the Hogwart's Express...

“Excuse me,” Harry said to a short, stout woman with red hair.

“Hullo, dears,” she said with a warm smile “First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new too.”

The woman pointed to her youngest son who was tall, thin and lumbering. He had freckles like his siblings, rather large hands and feet, and to top it all off, his long nose.

“Yes,” Harry said respectfully “but I’m alone, so why did you say ‘dears’ like there’s two of me?” Well then, who’s that behind you?” the woman said, moving her nose up a little, indicating that Harry should turn and look behind him.

When he did, he saw a pair of brown eyes looking back at him, staring into the sparkling emerald of his own. Her hair was long and – unlike his – not black, but rather a very dark shade of brown that seemed to be black. She too had a large trolley like Harry and the other children, a rather beautiful white cat sitting in a cage much like Hedwig’s, its blue eyes piercing his soul. The main difference however, was the fact that the cat’s cage had far thicker bars and was filled with cat litter in the deep bottom.

“Hi... um... sorry if I startled you,” the girl said with a smile “I saw your trunks and I thought I could follow you to Platform 9 and ¾.”

Harry just smiled.

“That’s okay, all we need to know is – ”

“How to get onto the Platform?” the woman said, not seeming to be annoyed by the fact that Harry was now talking to this girl.

As Harry turned back to the woman, her son and daughter, he and the other girl nodded.

“Not to worry,” she said, her eyes moving between Harry and the girl “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared or you’ll crash into it, that’s very important to keep in mind. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Ron.

“Er- ladies first whatever-your-name-is,” Harry said quickly “I’m Harry by the way.”

“My name is Mert Goldsworth,” Mert said with a look of exasperation that leached into her voice “And I hate being second.”

With a muttered thank you to the woman, Mert rushed toward the ticket box and disappeared like Fred, George and Percy. Now it was as if she had never been standing behind Harry in the first place.

“Must have had a rough morning,” the woman said with a kind smile in Harry’s direction.

Ron nodded in agreement. Mert was on the other side of the barrier watching the younger children see off their older relatives and she was sure they would cry if something bad happened to the owls. Judging by the looks they gave her cat, this had actually happened at some point and knew better than to ask. The first few carriages of the red steam engine in front of Mert were packed with children of varying ages, many of them leaning out of the window to get one last word out to their parents or siblings. While Harry began to wonder what it would be like to have his own parents waving him goodbye, he almost ran into a round-faced boy who was talking to an elderly woman. Mert snorted to hold back a laugh, acquiring a grin from the awkwardness of it all.

Harry swerved and heard the distracted boy say “Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.”

"Oh, Neville,” the woman sighed.

A boy a little further away with black dreadlocks was surrounded by excited students.

“Give us a look Lee, go on!” someone said with a big smile.

The boy with dreadlocks lifted the lid of the box in his arms and his crowd got closer, all of them squealing and shrieking as a long, hairy leg moved out from the now-open box. Mert gave it a sideways looks and cringed at the sight, her grin finally dissipating. Mert watched Harry struggle with his trunk, only to have one of the older ginger-haired boys help him. Mert looked down at her feet and searched around her for somebody to help, but nobody seemed tall or strong enough. After all, even Harry was having trouble with his trunk and he was taller than her by a hand. Just when all hope seemed lost, someone tapped her on the shoulder and spoke into her ear.

“I’ll take the trunk, you take that cat,” the boy said.

Mert nodded and caught sight of a burly boy with brown hair behind her.

“Um... thanks. I didn’t catch your name,” Mert said as she entered a compartment reserved for first-years.

The boy flashed a toothy yet oddly charming smile.

“Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team,” he said proudly “I suppose you’ve never heard about Quidditch or the houses before?”

Mert sat Winter next to her and Oliver stood in the doorway. She shook her head no.

“Well,” Oliver began, beaming “At Hogwarts there are four houses a first year like you can be sorted into: Gryffindor – like me – Slytherin, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. Brave people go into Gryffindor, if you ask me. I reckon the nasty ones go into Slytherin, the ones who are too nice for their own good go into Hufflepuff and the smart ones end up in Ravenclaw. Quidditch is a bit harder to explain, but once you see a match you’ll get it pretty quickly.”

“Well then,” Mert said with a look of determination on her face “I guess I’d want to be in any house... especially if I can prove that all the kids in Slytherin aren’t that bad.”

Oliver smiled again, this time with a little less teeth showing.

“You do that sweetheart,” he said with a wave, leaving Mert alone for a few seconds.

Oliver suddenly ducked back and said “Hang on, what’s your name?”

Mert held back a chuckle.

“Mert Goldsworth. It was nice meeting you Oliver... and thanks for carrying the trunk.”

“Anytime,” Oliver said, weaving his way around a few younger students as they raced past him to another carriage “Watch it you lot! Enjoy the trip Mert.”

Mert waved goodbye to Oliver who was giving three boys odd looks. They made a right turn for Mert’s compartment and she furrowed her brow.

“Is anyone taking up these seats?” a blonde boy asked.  
Mert relaxed and shook her head.

“No,” she answered “But you’re welcome to take them if you like.”

The boys crowded into the compartment and they began introducing themselves... at least, the two taller ones looked like they wanted to. The blonde boy did it for them.

“I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy,” the blonde said as he gestured to the two boys at his side “And this is Crabbe and Goyle. What’s your name?”

“Mert; Mert Goldsworth.”

“Haven’t heard of anybody with that name before...” Draco said, looking over at Mert’s cat Winter.

“I love cats,” Crabbe said with a smile as he tried to pet it.

Winter sniffed his fingers and hissed, hair standing up on end. Crabbe moved his hand back and sat next to Goyle on the opposite side while Draco sat next to Mert. It was lucky they had, because the train had begun to move almost as soon as their rear ends touched the seat. Draco looked out of the window at a man who resembled him; tall and gaunt with long white-blonde hair tied behind his back. Draco received a small wave from the man Mert could only assume was his father.

“Winter!” Mert said angrily when he hissed again “Behave yourself; he was going to hurt you. He just wanted to say hello.”

Winter nodded and Mert jerked her head in the cat’s direction.

“Try again,” she said casually “Winter’s a rare cat: he can change forms.”

Winter suddenly morphed into a beautiful owl like Harry’s, the only difference being her eyes. A strange pale blue rather than the yellow that was most common in the species.

“Amazing!” Goyle said “Where’d you get him?”

“My father found him on the streets one night and he transformed right in front of us... because I got upset about not being allowed to have cats in the house,” Mert said, earning confused expressions from the three boys.

“What happened?” Crabbe said, completely mesmerised by Mert’s story.

“He turned into a fish so we had to put him in a bowl of water,” Mert said with grin “and the next day we got my letter for Hogwarts.”

“How is he rare if you changed him then?” Crabbe said, earning a scoff from Draco.

“And how many times have you seen a transfiguring animal Crabbe? Goyle?”

He paused, and when he got no answered, continued to make his point.

“I thought so,” he said proudly “I’d love to have a friend like you Mert; someone who’s smart, knows what they’re talking about... and of course you have at least half a brain in your head too.”

“Well then, you’d probably want to talk to Harry,” Mert said, feeling a little guilty about the way she had spoken in front of the kind woman “He seems nice enough.”

“Wait, what was his full name?” Draco said eagerly “Did you catch it?”

“Sorry, no,” Mert said “Why? Is he someone special?”

“He more special than 10 of your cats!” Crabbe said with a dead serious expression.

“Is he what all the fuss is about?” Mert asked as she pointed toward the front of the train “Is that why everybody ran that way?”

“Come on you two, we’re investigating,” Draco said, leaving quickly through the sliding door of the compartment with Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

After a little while, Draco came back with a pink tinge in his pale cheeks.

“Was it him?” Mert said with widened eyes.

Draco kicked the seat and Mert jumped slightly in shock.

“He didn’t want to be friends with me... some ruddy Weasley got to him first,” Draco scowled “Potter said he could ‘tell who the wrong sort are’... the nerve.”

Mert made a face of disappointment. Harry had seemed like a nice person, but to imply that Draco wasn’t of a ‘nice sort’ told her otherwise.

“You know what Draco?” Mert said as Draco sat down next to her.

“What?” he said dejectedly.

“Goldsworth more than Potter’s friendship any time of the year,” Mert said crudely, holding out a hand for Draco to take.

Draco looked at Mert side-on and turned to face her, staring at her hand and then looked up.

“Let’s hope you’re a Slytherin,” Draco said with a lopsided smirk as he shook her hand.

Mert smiled.

“I’ll be one of the best Slytherin that ever was or will be,” Mert said with a wicked grin.

She held the expression and looked over at Goyle.

“That’s a pretty scary face your making,” Goyle said as he edged closer to Crabbe.

Mert laughed and Draco joined her. Mert saw Goyle’s injured hand and pulled a small bandaid out of her pocket.

“What happened to your finger?!” Mert said with worry.

“Weasley’s bloody rat,” Goyle muttered.

“Winter can lick it and heal up your wound a little faster, right?” Mert said to the caged animal.

She opened the door and Winter flew out, sitting on Goyle’s knee and turning into a small white dog. He lapped at Goyle's hand and he made a pained face for a

couple of seconds, but soon it subsided.

“Why did that get rid of the sting so much?” Goyle said in exasperation.

“Dogs saliva is good at healing wounds on their own body, so why shouldn’t it help with ours?” Mert suggested, seeing the lady with her trolley roll past.

“Give a second,” Mert said as she stood and poked her head out of the door.

After a quick exchange of Galleons, Mert had gotten them a packet of Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans each and a small cup of water for herself.

“Thanks,” Draco said as he took the jelly beans.

He deposited two of the packets in Crabbe’s hands while he kept hold of the other two, including Mert’s. She couldn’t eat them while she treated Goyle’s hand.

After wiping over Goyle’s hand with the water to get rid of the blood, Mert used the bandage to cover up the injured finger.

“That should keep you going until we get to Hogwarts,” she said in assurance “Then you can have someone else look at it.”

Crabbe was stunned by Mert and Goyle looked like he was ready to marry her.

“Thanks Mert,” he said with a smile as Crabbe dropped the beans in his lap.

“Well... I’m going to head off and change into my robes,” Mert said as she undid a buckle on her trunk, her robes falling into her hand “You lot can change while I’m gone.”

Mert wasn’t there to see it, but the boys were scrambling to grab their robes and put them on before she got back. Of course, that had lead to Crabbe getting a nasty bruise on his hip form falling into the seat while he put on his socks. When Mert got back and they were fully dressed, they all started a game where one person picked a bean of a particular colour, the group found one that looked the same and then they all ate it, revealing what flavours were hidden inside. The worst one was a sickly green coloured bean which – in Draco’s case – turned out to be vomit flavoured. He didn’t need to eat the bean to find out what vomit tasted like, because he had been forced to run off and do exactly that in the boys lavatories. Mert and Crabbe got green apple and Goyle was stuck with cabbage. After watching the countryside change from rolling hills and open meadows to mountains and forests, Mert realised that they would be stopping very soon. As if proving her right, they all heard a voice echo through the train.

“We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train, as it will be taken to the school separately.”

Mert smiled and locked Winter away in his cage. Draco glanced at the new addition to his group and – when they all alighted the train – they heard a voice call out to them.

“Firs’-years! Firs’-years over here!”

The owner of this voice was tall man with a big beard and belly to suit. He was holding a big lamp above all their heads. He spoke to Harry over all of their voices only to remember that he had a job to do.

“C’mon, follow me – any more firs’-years? Mind yer step now! Firs’-years follow me!” the man bellowed.

Draco slipped and stumbled next to Mert along with his friends, each step placed down to find footing on the steep, damp path. Nobody spoke, but the occasional bump caused a student to squeak in fright until the person with a wandering  hand that sat on their shoulder calmed them down. Crabbe and Goyle were practically hugging one another but Draco was at least playing off his fright by pretending he had come back from a fall. One of the girls off to Mert’s right – with thick, brown frizzy hair – gave him a look that spoke of nothing but disappointment. The boy who had been searching for his toad sniffled here and there, but stopped when they heard the tall man speak again.

“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” he called over his shoulder, “jus round this bend here.”

Mert and most of the other children gave a resounding “Oooooh” at the sight before them.

They had left the dark, narrow path to find a black lake spanning the gap between themselves and a rather tall mountain. Perched on top of this mountain with windows that sparkled against the night sky was a vast castle, covered with turrets and towers that took Mert’s breath away. It was one of the most astounding things she had ever seen.

“No more’n four to a boat!” called the tall bearded man, pointing to a small armada of wooden boats on the edge of the water, barely touching land.

Harry and the youngest Weasley son were joined in a boat by the girl with frizzy brown hair and the boy that still hadn’t found his toad. Mert got into a boat with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, sitting next to the latter of the three. She didn’t mind it because – despite outward appearances – he was a nice person to be around.

“Everyone in?” the bearded man shouted, expecting an answer that never came “Right then – FORWARD!”

With the word spoken, all the boats along the shore jolted forward and began floating across the lake, not a single ripple in sight. The ride was so smooth that Mert could have sworn it was made of glass; it even had the same reflective qualities. A great silence had fallen over the children as they watched the castle loom ahead in the distance. It was like travelling back in time. Soon the castle towered over them as they got ever closer to the cliff on which the ancient structure stood.

“Heads down!” the man yelled from his boat.

Not wanting to find out what would happen if they didn’t follow his instruction, all of the students bent their heads down – forward for most – but the boy who seemed to be forgetful bent backward and made a squeal, telling the others in his boat that he had seen a big spider, causing the boy with red hair to shudder. Mert snickered when a wall of ivy ran over their backs and the boy made a louder squeal than before: even Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had a good giggle. They entered a dark tunnel in the side of the cliff, under the castle until they reached what looked like an underground harbour. As they clambered out of the boats quickly, Mert’s robes got caught and she fell down onto the sharp rocks and pebbles, rock piercing her skin. Despite the burning pain, Mert stood up and found a friendly hand lift her up. The boy who lost his toad apparently got it back, judging by the joyous cry of “Trevor!” nearby.

“Thanks... who’re you?” Mert said as she picked a few rocks out of her forearms and knees.

“I’m Pansy Parkinson,” the girl said with a smile “What about you?”

“Mert.”

She followed Pansy and the others to up through a passageway in the rock – led by the tall man and his big lamp – coming out on crisp emerald grass that was overshadowed by the castle. Mert slid a little on one foot and realised that it was quite slippery. Goyle managed to almost bowl over Pansy and Crabbe as he went for a trip, but Draco used it to his advantage and slid away from them. When they got to the door after climbing a flight of stone steps, the tall man called out to Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle at the back.

“You alrig’ back there, everyone still here?” he said with genuine worry, quickly turning his attention to someone else “You there, still got yer’ toad?”

The man raised one large fist and knocked on the huge oak door three times. In her mind, Mert heard a voice say  _This is it!_


	2. Sorted by a Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mert and her new comapnions are all sorted into their houses... but something goes wrong.

Almost as soon as the third knock reached their ears, the towering oak door swung open. In the doorway stood an older woman with ebony hair and emerald robes that reminded Mert of the grass they had been walking - or more accurately slipping - across a few minutes earlier. Her face was stern but held a gentleness that made Mert feel safe; _bullies beware the woman in green_.

“The firs’-years, Professor McGonagall,” the tall man said to the woman.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” she said with a small nod “I will take them from here.”

Mert took note of the adult's names just before Professor McGonagall opened the doors wide, revealing the spacious Entrance Hall. The stone walls were lit by torches Mert had seen in old movies about Medieval times; it was fascinating, but not as attractive as the marble staircase she saw ahead of them, leading upward. Mert silently swore to herself that if she saw a real-life dragon she could die happy. As they followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor, Mert heard voices coming from a door off to their right. If she had to guess, she’d say it was all the other students, including the older boy she had met on the train; Oliver Wood. Rather than showing them into this room however, Professor McGonagall ushered Mert and the other first-years into a small empty chamber next to the door that led into the room full of students. _What’s going to happen now?_ Mert wondered. All of the students crowded into the small room, looking more like sardines than a group of children. Some of them were glancing about nervously, as if they had been put on death row.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall said after waiting for the students to settle down “The start-of-term-banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitories and spend free time in your house common room.”

Mert began to smile. The Great Hall would be full of people waiting to see who would join their house next: they would have new sisters and brothers. Suddenly a thought struck Mert as Professor McGonagall spoke about the four houses – Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place: on one hand, she could join Oliver Wood and put up with Harry Potter and his fiery-haired friend from the train. On the other, she could do what Oliver seemed happy with and be the **best damn Slytherin** there ever was. Judging by the picture card she had of Merlin from a chocolate frog, being a great and kind Slytherin would be quite easy. It was decided. She would be a Slytherin. Mert snapped out of her thoughts long enough to hear Professor McGonagall finish her speech.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting,” Professor McGonagall said as her eyes scanned the sea of faces.

“I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly.”

As soon as Professor McGonagall left, Mert overheard Harry and the boy with red hair – who she finally remembered was called Ron – discussing the way the sorting ceremony worked. According to someone named Fred, it was a painful test. Harry seemed to believe it, but Mert didn’t think on it for a second. This was a school and despite having to teach them all about magic, there would be a certain limit as to what they could let happen to a student; pain was certainly not a polite or humane way of sorting them into houses and had to go against some sort of wizard law. At least, Mert liked to think so. Quite suddenly, twenty pale white men and women floated in through the back of the room and appeared above their heads. Mert and a handful of other children screamed, not seeming to bother the ghostly intruders. After a moment of chatter, one of the ghosts looked down at them, rather perplexed.

“I say – what are you all doing here?” said a man with a ruff and tights on.

One of the men accompanying him – a rather wide Friar – smiled.

“New students!” said the Friar joyously, letting them all see his smiling face “About to be sorted, I suppose?”

A few of them nodded, some stayed silent and Mert gave a quiet “Yes, sir.”

“Hope to see you in Hufflepuff,” the Fat Friar said excitedly “My old house, you know.”

“Move along now,” came the sharp voice of Professor McGonagall “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to start.”

One at a time, the ghosts moved forward into the Great Hall, not making a sound.

“Now, form a line,” Professor McGonagall said sternly to the first-years “and follow me.”

Mert and the others formed a line, single file, and entered the Great Hall. Mert neglected to look at the faces around them and her eyes moved upward to see floating candles which she assumed were dangling there by magic, but a candle moving through the air told her that it must be ghosts or some other supernatural creature. Her eyes then lifted higher to look at the ceiling covered in stars.

Ahead of her the girl with frizzy hair said “It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside; I read about it in Hogwarts: A History.”

“If you keep being such a know-it-all you’ll be in Hogwarts: A History,” Mert muttered rather loudly, earning a smile from a boy on the table to her far right.

The line stopped, each and every face in the crowd of students staring at them with smiles or something that was positive at the very least. Professor McGonagall moved behind them and sat something down. From the sound alone, Mert could tell it was made of wood. Her father was a carpenter and it was easy to tell because she had heard him put down stools and coffee tables a thousand times over. Something gave a soft plop when Professor McGonagall sat it on top of the stool and Mert grew nervous at once. A few people noticed the worry amongst the new arrivals and smiled a bit bigger than they were already. Someone waved and Mert realised that it was Oliver. He smiled and mouthed the words _You’ll be okay_. Mert nodded her thanks once and a few people around her began smiling, mistaking Oliver’s message as words of encouragement to themselves. All of a sudden, Mert heard singing and turned her head, following the eyes of the older students.

“Oh you may think I’m not pretty,  
But don’t judge on what you see,  
I’ll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There’s nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can’t see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave of heart,  
Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid to toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you’ve a read mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You’ll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don’t be afraid!  
And don’t get in a flap!  
You’re in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I’m a Thinking Cap!”

There was thunderous applause from the students and teachers alike, the Sorting Hat giving a bow to each table in turn. Mert smiled as Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a long piece of parchment, the smile disappearing as she turned her head back to the eager crowd. Only now did Mert notice the finery laid out on the table: gold plates, bowls, goblets and cutlery laid out just for the students to use.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” professor McGonagall said before shouting the name “Abbott, Hannah!”

A girl with blonde pigtails left the line and Mert heard the hat shout out the house she would be joining.

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The table second from the right burst into cheers and whoops as Hannah Abbott joined her ‘family’ for the next seven years. The names continued to roll out, along with the name of their house; Mert was waiting anxiously for the G’s to start, but it was going to take a while.

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” the hat cried.

“Goldsworth, Mert,” said Professor McGonagall at long last.

Mert turned and walked over to the stool, taking her seat and letting the hat fall over her eyes. She was frozen in place, listening to a voice in her left ear, hear right ear, all around her.

“You have a brilliant mind and such bravery... but I cannot place you into Slytherin, my dear,” the hat said solemnly “It would go against the founder’s rules.”

“Please,” Mert begged quietly “I want to change the way this place is... your song makes the Slytherin name sound like a curse word. I want to prove them wrong – starting with Harry Potter.”

“Very well, but know this... being in the house you choose may cause you a great many troubles,” the Sorting Hat warned her.

“I have the bravery of a Gryffindor and the intelligence of a Ravenclaw: I can put up with the torment like a Hufflepuff and be a Slytherin regardless of what you believe about me.”

“Very well...” the hat drawled.

A few people began whispering, as the Sorting Hat was taking an oddly long time to find Mert's house.

“SLYTHERIN!” the hat cried, shaking his head so slightly that nobody noticed his disappointment.

Professor McGonagall lifted the hat from Mert’s head and gave Mert a weathered stare. Just before Mert could slip into a spot between the tall Slytherin boy who had heard her insult Hermione – the girl with frizzy brown hair – and Crabbe, she almost fell. Someone stopped her, a hissing sound escaping their mouth as Mert’s hand moved over a bandage. Goyle was holding tightly onto her other arm to make sure she stayed upright.

“You alright?” he asked her with worry dripping from his tone.

“Fine,” Mert said as she and Goyle sat on the side of the table closer to Hufflepuff.

Hannah Abbott leaned over and told Mert the collar of her robe had come up and the latter adjusted it.

“Thank you... Hannah was it?” Mert asked.

Hannah nodded and was suddenly shushed by an older girl across the table from her. Draco soon joined them, along with Pansy Parkinson and a boy named Blaise Zabini, the last student on the list. Mert saw Professor Dumbledore – the school’s Headmaster who had been on Goyle’s Chocolate Frog – sitting in a large golden chair. Professor McGonagall cleared away the chair and now-silent Sorting Hat. She took her seat and Albus Dumbledore got to his feet.

“Welcome!” the old man said joyfully “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!”

“Thank you,” he finished, taking his seat once more.

Mert gave a boy further down the table an odd look as if to say _What’s he on about_? Her reply was a mere shake of the head and he mouthed _Even I don’t know_. Mert gave an awkward smile and suddenly smelt food, looking down at the plates around her. They were filled with roasted meats, chops, potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, tomato sauce and – as if to throw off their senses – mint flavoured Humbugs. Across at the Gryffindor table the boys and girls were fussing over Harry as if he had returned after years of being away. Then Harry was suddenly looking straight at Mert, but then she noticed his gaze seemed to be a little further to her right. Mert looked over and saw a ghost seated next to Draco, silvery-white blood covering his clothes. Before she could take a bite of her food, Mert screamed. With eyes staring her down, including those of the ghost in question, she tried to stand up and leave her seat. Mert’s knee got caught on the long chair and she fell forward, her head hitting the hard ground with a loud crack. Suddenly Mert’s world had gone black.

 

 

 

Mert woke up late at night in a small bed, her head pounding as much as her finger had the day she tried to use her father’s hammer. _No_ , she thought to herself, _it hurts much more than that did_. Mert sat up and moved her pillow so that she could sit up comfortably, her vision much blurrier than she remembered it to be. On a table with wheels and one leg on its far right side sat two small plates: one contained two slices of roast chicken, a boiled potato, a small serving of peas and a decent drizzle of gravy. She had to think hard before finally realising that the other had a small amount of rice pudding and three strawberries, which made her smile. _At least I won’t go hungry while I sit here with the worst headache on Earth_ , she thought to herself. Wheeling the table so that the top was over her lap, Mert hovered her hand above the food and found that it was giving off warmth.

“How on earth is this still warm?” she said in amazement.

“Someone bewitched your food to stay that way until you could wake up and eat it,” said a male voice from across the room "That's what they did when I wound up here."

Mert felt for her wand in her sleeve and thought hard.

“What was the spell to make light again?” Mert whispered to herself “Oh, yes! _Lumos_!”

A white light illuminated the room and Mert saw someone with red on their tie walk toward her.

“You’re a Gryffindor? Who are you?” she said shakily.

The boy kept getting closer and sat a hand on her shoulder.

“Oliver... from on the train?” Oliver said “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already?”

“No, I didn’t,” Mert said honestly “You lifted my trunk onto the train for me.”

Mert could tell that he was smiling.

“I see you’ve read a book for a later year,” Oliver said, sounding impressed “That’s fairly advanced.”

“I actually heard it from someone in Diagon Alley,” Mert said with a proud smile as she let herself relax and let her hand sit at her hip “They were talking to an older boy... it was probably their son or someone they knew. He couldn't see into a purse for a gold coin - I think you call them Galleons - and the adult told him to use the spell so he could see better.”

“Well... you gave everyone a big scare,” Oliver said as he began telling Mert about her misadventure “We thought you’d died but your Head of House, Professor Snape said you’d just fallen unconscious. Apparently one of the ghosts scared you half to death – Bloody Baron of all people. He’s part of Slytherin house so you’ll be seeing a lot of him.”

“He’s not that scary now that I think of it,” Mert said shakily, feeling Oliver rub her shoulder to calm her down.

For some reason she felt cold and began shuddering.

“I was just thinking about how disappointed you’d be to see me go off into Slytherin when you were in Gryffindor,” she lied.

Mert was glad Oliver couldn’t see through her act. How could she tell him that she was mad at Harry Potter when everybody was so enamoured by him, and that all she'd be remembered for now was cracking her head on the flagstones?

“You didn’t disappoint me,” Oliver said as he gave a sobbing Mert a hug.

His shoulder was the perfect place to release her tears of guilt. Oliver had been so nice to her and now she was lying to his face, sobbing tears of self-loathing into his shoulder when she should be mad at her for being so selfish.

“You said you’d be the best Slytherin and change people’s minds... so do it. For me,” Oliver said, pulling back from Mert.

She nodded and he gave her a quick hug before walking away. He waved from the doorway and Mert waved back weakly before something like a migraine set in. The pain dulled to a pressure in her temples and an ache that spread all around her head. It was comfortable enough that she could eat her meal in relative peace. While Mert slowly ate – as each bite triggered a strong pain where she had hit her head – she could have sworn she saw something in the doorway. When she heard nothing, Mert looked back down at her chicken and ate it even slower than before.

“And how is your head, Mert?” came a woman’s stern voice.

Mert almost choked when the woman spoke, because she hadn’t seen her come in. It was Professor McGonagall and behind her was a woman in white.

“Well... my eyes are a little fuzzy and it’s hard to chew,” Mert answered “But I still remember who I am.”

Professor McGonagall gave a small smile.

“Well that’s progress Minerva,” said the woman behind Professor McGonagall “The pain had been so unbearable that she was sleeping like a statue.”

“If only I could award house points for pain tolerance Poppy,” said Professor McGonagall “Is there nothing you can do to at least rid her of the blurry vision? Or at least the pain?”

“Pain yes, vision no, I’m afraid,” said the other woman “But I’m certain of one thing: she’s going to need someone with her at all times to be certain that she doesn’t trip on the stairs. One more bad fall and I’m afraid you’ll be joining the Bloody Baron.”

“Excuse me, but when can I leave?” Mert asked quickly.

“My name is Madame Pomfrey,” said the elderly woman with a smile “and you can leave tomorrow morning. I’ll have Pansy Parkinson from Slytherin House help you around until you can see clearly again.”

“Thank you Madame Pomfrey,” Mert said courteously.

“You’re very welcome... now don’t eat any more,” Madame Pomfrey said kindly “This potion tends to cause nausea before it really takes effect.”

Mert nodded and pushed her little table up next to her bedside table.

“Did I cause any trouble Professor?” Mert asked Professor McGonagall.

“No Miss Goldswoth,” said Professor McGonagall “But you did get Mr Wood out of his seat faster than the word ‘Quidditch’ ever has; one of the Gryfindor Prefects also came to your aid... I think it was the eldest Weasley.”

“I met Oliver on the train this morning when he helped me with my trunk,” Mert explained, not wanting to leave her teacher guessing.

“He is a Gryffindor,” Professor McGonagall pointed out with pride in her tone “But he’s not chivalrous when it comes to training.”

“He’s got big shoulders... he could probably hold up a house if he wanted to,” Mert joked.

Professor McGonagall laughed quietly and nodded.

“I’m sure he could,” she said as Madame Pomfrey entered the room.

“Alright,” Madame Pomfrey said in a calming tone “Drink this and eat your meal when you feel up to it. Call me in and I’ll give you a Sleeping Draught to keep you well-rested.”

“Okay,” Mert said, getting a smell of something vile in the goblet Madame Pomfrey had handed her.

Mert bravely gulped the foul watery substance and Professor McGonagall’s eyes were averted for a moment.

“I remember drinking that vile stuff when I was in my final year,” Professor McGonagall said as she began to reminisce “That’s when I got hit by a damn Quaffle one of the Ravenclaw sixth-years sent my way when I played as a Seeker.”

“And then she never got on a broom again,” said Madame Pomfrey, bringing the story full-circle “So naturally, she now roots for the Gryffindor team.”

“I’m Head of House for Gryffindor: your Head of House is Professor Snape,” said Professor McGonagall “You’d do well to keep that in mind when you’re trying to win the House Cup. Enjoy your meal.”

“I will,” Mert said, waving goodbye to Professor McGonagall as she swept out of the room with Madame Pomfrey.

Mert’s head was spinning for a few minutes and she had to lie completely still with her eyes shut to get rid of the dizziness. After the spinning had stopped, she felt as though she was about to retch. Madame Pomfrey was off in another room, likely half-asleep with some kind of enchantment to wake her up if she got any worse. At least, that’s what precaution Mert imagined the witch would have in place. The nausea came and went so quickly Mert had pulled the tray back over her lap, sat up and began eating her food after a few more minutes of boredom. But she did pace herself of course. She didn’t need indigestion or hiccoughs on top of the blurred vision and splitting headaches which – miraculously – had disappeared just as Madame Pomfrey had said they would. Mert was just over half way through her meal when she thought she heard someone at the door again, her fork falling onto the plate with a small chunk of boiled potato and gravy on the end.

“Hello? Is someone there?” Mert said into the darkness.

“S-sorry I just w-wanted to make sure you were alr-right after what h-happened in the Gr-Great Hall,” stuttered a man from the doorway of the Infirmary.

“I’m P-P-Professor Quirrel. I teach D-Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“I’m fine thank you Professor Quirrel,” Mert said with a nod.

“Tha-That’s good... M-Mert was it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Goodn-night then,” he said with a wave.

Mert felt a cold chill run up her spine. Professor Quirrel seemed like a good person, but the icy silence that followed behind him as he swung his robes to leave the doorway told her otherwise. While Mert continued through the rest of her meal, she wondered what on earth Defense Against the Dark Arts entailed. Obviously it was to defend themselves against the things in the wizarding world that were dangerous, but what were those dangers exactly? If ghosts existed, did that mean that ghouls, vampires, werewolves and all of those other things in fairytales or folklore were real too? The more she thought about it, the more Mert wanted to race through the rice pudding and strawberries and get to bed. So she did, wolfing down the cold, lumpy sweetened mush, grimacing at the pain that was slowly leaching into her temples. She called in Madam Pomfrey and she nodded toward her outstretched hand, a small vial waiting in her palm.

“Drink this, sit it on the table and rest,” Madame Pomfrey said reassuringly “I’ll check on you in the morning and call Pansy up so you can go to lessons with her.That means we’ll have to be up early.”

Mert nodded and pulled out the small cork, stealing a quick glance at Madame Pomfrey before downing the liquid in the vial. It tasted oddly like vanilla bean. Mert stared at the ceiling and fell into a deep sleep, her dreams filled with darkness. It wasn't because she was scared; she simply had no dreams that night.


	3. The Slytherin Dungeon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mert wakes up and is escorted by her new friend Pansy to the Slytherin Common Room in the Dungeons...

Mert awoke the next morning to see Pansy Parkinson standing over her, a smile on her face.

“You scream pretty loud Mert,” she said with an awkward grin.

The other girl’s expression seemed to say that Pansy was sorry, but not quite forgiving of the headache she’d received from hearing the scream.

“I’m sorry Pansy,” Mert said shyly, pulling back the covers of her bed “Did Madame Pomfrey wake me up early for breakfast?”

“Yeah,” Pansy said as she nodded her head, her grin becoming something reminiscent of pity

“Something like that.”

Mert smiled and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

“Even though I’ve got blurry eyes I can still see my way around... it’s just going down the stairs where I’ll have trouble,” Mert said thoughtfully “So you don’t have to babysit me for our classes at all. You just have to stick around when they’re on different floors.”

“Trying to push me away Goldie?” Pansy said as she and Mert made their way to the stairwell down from the Hospital Wing.

“No, of course not,” Mert replied with a shake of her head as Pansy took a firm but gentle hold of her arm “I just don’t want to annoy you all the time.”

“You don’t,” Pansy said with a rather loud giggle bordering on maniacal laughter.

The girls got to the bottom of the marble staircase and walked past the Great Hall, heading down a new set of stairs to the dungeons.

“We have Potions in that room with the door, but we can’t go in yet,” Pansy said with a smile as she led Mert forward.

“Of course we can’t,” Mert joked “We haven’t had breakfast yet.”

Pansy laughed loudly, stopped in her tracks and moved her hand along a wall at the end of the hallway. Pansy suddenly traced her finger in an ‘s’ shape over a brick that stuck out by a whole inch more than the rest and said “Merlin”; in the dark it was almost impossible to notice this slight difference in size. The last torch they had passed was a fair few feet back, enough that they were in near-blackness. The stone suddenly moved inward like a key and Pansy put her hand into the crevice, pulling the stone toward her like a door. The stone became an inverted handle and Mert forced herself not to be amazed. She shouldn’t be seen drooling over the school’s floors. Pansy pushed Mert forward and she walked through the door to see Draco, Crabbe and Goyle seated on beautiful deep green couch with buttons sewn onto them. The lights were eerie green balls that seemed to be floating, but their light told her that they were actually dangling from the ceiling on long chains. There was a corridor to Mert’s right that led off to a small hallway laden with pictures of an ex-Slytherin and two doors in the middle of the hall.

“Hey Pansy,” Mert whispered to the girl behind her “Do you really have to make the s-shape on the brick to open the door?”

“No,” Pansy admitted with a lop-sided grin “I just do it cause’ its fun. Just make sure you remember the password. You did remember it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Mert said after nodding vigorously “It was Merlin.”

“I’d hate to see what happens to you when it changes,” a voice behind Mert said.

Mert turned and saw a tall boy with black hair like Harry, except his was a little more well-kept, his teeth being an exception. Her eyes might have been blurry, but the crookedness of his front two teeth was hard to miss.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Mert said to the taller boy.

“Marcus Flint,” he said, looking Mert up and mostly down “Aren’t you the one that screamed and knocked her head on the floor? You’re as much of a celebrity as Harry Potter at the moment.”

Mert’s eyes had widened and her brows were raised in surprise. But why on Earth is Harry so important?

“I didn’t think that was possible... considering the fuss everybody in the Great Hall made when they heard Harry’s name,” Mert said, her mouth now hanging down in disbelief.

“Well... Flint is telling the truth Mert,” Draco said from his seat “You and Potter will be the talk of the school for months... and I bet he’ll try to show you up.”

“You mean ‘us’ Draco,” Mert said insistently, blinking hard as she looked in his direction uncertainly “What Harry said to you was beyond rude. He just judged a book by its cover and didn’t try reading the blurb.”

Marcus Flint made a face in the corner of Mert’s eye, but Draco pointed to the seat beside him.

“Take one,” Draco said as if he were in a trance.

Mert didn’t notice that Draco’s eyes were trained on her, but Pansy did, rushing past Mert to get to the seat closer to him.

“I like your way of thinking Mert,” Draco said after a moment of playing wizards chess with Goyle.

“Sneaky, cunning, to-the-point... it’s no wonder you were put in Slytherin.”

Mert was about to thank him when he added “But with a mind like that you could have ended up in Ravenclaw.”

This stunned both herself and Pansy into silence. As if Pansy had suddenly remembered that they were in the same house, she rushed to grab Mert’s hand and led her down the corridor, into the girl’s dormitories. Mert saw a collection of four poster beds around the room, each belonging to one of the first-year girls. There was a door at each end for girls in years 2 and 3, presumably leading to the dormitories 4 and 5 respectively and then dormitories 6 and 7. If Mert had to hazard a guess, there was a charm on the whole Slytherin Dungeon to make it magically big enough to hold all of the students and furniture inside.

“Your bed is the one by the door, just there to your right,” Pansy said after Mert had taken the opportunity to take in the room.

Mert walked over to her bed with it deep green blankets and pale green sheets, admiring the black wood that elegantly bordered the sheets. Mert smiled when she saw a familiar white mass fast asleep on the covers.

“Good morning Winter,” Mert said with a big smile.

The cat curled up on the bed suddenly rolled over and expected a belly rub. Mert knew what this meant and her smile grew impossibly wider.

“Hey Pansy, did my cat do anything strange last night?” Mert asked curiously.

“No, should he have?” Pansy replied worriedly as she pulled out Mert’s timetable.

“When I first started to... to show signs of having magic in me, I made him turn into a fish,” she said with a nod in the cat’s direction “Now he’s learnt to do it on his own. He wants me to rub his belly in the morning when he’s found something else to turn into. Want to see what he’ll become?”

Pansy was far too interested in Mert’s story to ignore the cat on the bed now. Last night she just let him rub his head on her hand and get a few scratches from the girls, as well as making sure he was well fed and had constant access to his cage.

“Winter... can I see you, um, change?” Pansy asked politely.

The cat gave a nod and meowed at Mert.

“Okay, reward first,” Mert said, rubbing the cat’s stomach.

As Mert rubbed the cat’s furry stomach, his body elongated and grew thinner; Winter’s fur began sticking down to his body as if it had been wet by water, grew smooth, even scaly. Mert stepped back and Pansy squealed while Mert almost screamed. Winter had turned into an albino snake and he looked just like the carving above the fire in the Slytherin Common Room. An older girl ran in from a door of Mert and Pansy, pulling out her wand and pointing it at Winter.

“Wait!” Mert shouted, snapping out of her shock “Don’t kill him, he’s my pet!”

Winter realised that his new form had disturbed the peace and changed back into an owl, making the older girl go as white as his feathers.

“THAT is your pet?” she shouted at Mert “How on Earth are you a first-year if you can make an animal do that?”

“I’m sorry,” Mert said in a hurry “I’ll ask him to remain a fish and leave him in a bowl and then when he needs to deliver letters he can go back to an owl. Is that okay... uh, what’s your name?”

“Gemma Farley,” Gemma said quickly “And I’m a Slytherin Prefect.”

Gemma shoved her wand back into her pocket and shook her head.

“Just make sure he doesn’t go ‘round scaring everyone, okay Mert?” Gemma said with a smile.

“Sure, but... how did you know my name?” Mert said, hoping she wouldn’t mention the –

“Well you did scream like a woman being murdered after taking one look at the Bloody Baron,” Gemma said honestly, sitting a hand on Mert’s shoulder “But don’t worry, everybody’s concerned; they weren’t laughing at you at all.”

Gemma whispered an apology to Winter, who transformed into a cat and rubbed his face all over her hand.

“You’re such a sweet little thing,” Gemma said as she walked away, the cat purring as she left the room.

Mert hadn’t realised it until now, but Gemma was still in her matching pink and white pyjamas.

“Mert,” Pansy said “We need to get our books together and head over to the Great Hall. I’ll grab out what you need, sit it here and then you can find your books by looking at mine, okay?”

Mert nodded and sat on her bed with Winter, waiting patiently for Pansy to get what she needed from her trunk. Pansy was holding a few books in her hand, but Mert wasn’t very worried about finding her books in that moment. She had put them all in the upper right corner wrapped in a thick casual jumper so she could find them easily. So far, the book Pansy had picked out were all at the top of the pile. Mert opened her trunk and threw the jumper filled with book onto her bed, narrowly missing Winter, who didn’t even hiss. He just stuck his rear end in her direction as he stretched out and went back to sleep.

“Would you be able to transform yourself into something small, cute and preferably that enjoys warm climates?” Mert asked Winter as he began purring.

He said nothing and changed into a small mouse.

“You’re getting too good at this Winter,” Mert said with a smile as she pulled out the necessary books for her day “Soon you’ll be better at magic than me.”

Winter rolled over and turned into a white fox and began laughing in such a high pitch that Mert and Pansy couldn’t help but laugh madly.

“You need to keep that one Winter, it’s beautiful. And funny!” Pansy said to the shape-shifting pet.

“Where did he learn that one from I wonder?” Mert said with a deeply furrowed brow.

A Slytherin girl who looked a lot like a boar walked past and said “I showed him a picture and he

wouldn’t let me put the book back in my bag. He just hissed and I had to leave it there.”

“Aren’t you Millicent?” Pansy said as she looked up at the other far burlier girl.

“Yes, I am,” Millicent said with a smile “You’re... pet is very cool by the way Mert.”

“Thanks Millicent,” Mert said with a smile.

She pulled a satchel out of her trunk and packed her books away so Pansy wouldn’t have to wait too long for her.

“Winter!” Mert called over to the fox “Pocket sized mouse, okay?”

Winter shrunk down and his tail lost its hair, his snout becoming more conical until he went back to the rather adorable form of a mouse with his piercing icy blue eyes.

“Did you see one running around the dungeon?” Pansy asked the mouse on the bed.

“Do you not like mice Pansy?” Mert asked, fully prepared to smuggle a snake into the Great Hall and her first class of the day.

“No, it’s okay,” Pansy said with a smile “I just wondered how he knew to make himself a mouse.”

“Back home I have a lot of books about animals so I let Winter sit on my shoulder and look at the pictures... kinda like what happened with Millicent. I had to bookmark the pages about water creatures because I didn’t want to have anything big crowd up the house.”

Pansy laughed as Mert picked up her pet mouse and dropped him into a pocket, along with an oddly short twisted wand made of thick Ebony wood, decorated with leaves of the tree it came from. Mr Ollivander had told Mert that her wand would do well with her if she had the courage to be herself and she loved its elegant, sleek black tone; it made her seem rich and powerful to use something so magnificently crafted. Mert slung the hefty bag over her shoulder and made sure that Winter was enjoying where he was, a small nudge on her finger confirming his safety. Mert and Pansy ventured back out into the Common Room, nearly being run over by other fellow students flowing out of the dormitories. Crabbe, Goyle and Draco were all standing next to the fire, many Slytherin girls and boys warming themselves in the cold of the dungeons. Mert heard Goyle squeal at the sound of Winter squeaking in her pocket as people pushed past them to leave the Common Room. Mert was eventually able to move closer to Crabbe and Draco, pull Winter out of her pocket and show Goyle that **this** rodent would never bite his hand. He gave a nervous nod and Mert asked him to hold Winter, which he did with a look of reservation. As soon as the small pure white mouse with blue eyes coiled up in the palm of his hand however, Goyle relaxed and held it near his face, earning a nuzzle on his nose rather affectionately from Winter. Mert asked for her pet back and Goyle obliged, a smile decorating his lips for a small while. While he and Crabbe seemed like scary people, it was only their height and build that seemed to show it.

“Goldie?” Mert heard Draco ask as he began chatting with Pansy “Are you sure she even likes that nickname?”

“Why not ask me yourself?” Mert said with a smile.

“Well, do you?”

“I don’t mind it at all.”

Draco nodded.

“Well then Goldie,” he said with a broad grin “I would like to invite you and Pansy to join my little group... officially.”

“That’s fine with us!” Pansy said excitedly, her ebony hair flinging about as she turned to look at the door into the Slytherin Dungeon.

“We’d better move along like the others,” Pansy said excitedly “Breakfast is in 15 minutes and it’s a decent walk to the Great Hall from here.”

Mert, Crabbe, Goyle and Draco nodded and they walked through the stone door to have a morning meal before they began a year of learning at Hogwarts. Upon entering the Great Hall, they found a few early birds seated at the tables, patiently waiting for their food to appear on the table. Mert would have laughed at the thought of food appearing on a plate before her, but now that she’d seen it, the novelty had worn off. Mert took her seat with Draco, Goyle and Crabbe on her right respectively; Pansy attempted to squeeze in between Mert and Draco but unfortunately could not find the space as most of the Slytherin's were seated on this side of the table. She had to sit at the opposite side with Millicent Bullstrode and another girl Mert didn’t know the name of. People all around Mert kept giving her sideways glances and even more waved, giving her a smile as if to say _It’s good to see you alive and_ _well_ which made her smile back. By the time their food sprang out onto the table on golden platters, Mert was positively beaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any comments, corrections or notes you'd like to give me feel free to do so cause I love hearing from my readers!


	4. Potions and Levitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mert's first day continues with jealousy and anxiety on the rise, especially when Harry starts a feud with the Potions teacher

Breakfast was a rather relaxed affair, full of chatter and discussions about the lessons they would be having. She had suddenly become busy worrying over Slytherins and Gryffindors having to share Potions to worry about the first day of school or any other lesson. Being with the Gryffindors meant Mert would have to put up with Harry insulting her new friends and acquaintances. Two could play at that game. Mert was talking to Pansy, following Draco’s eyes over to Harry for the millionth time that morning. He was chatting away with other Gryffindors who were absolutely enamoured by his very presence. It was like he had become some kind of God to them all overnight.

“They think he’s a prince,” Pansy whispered, noticing that Mert had been staring “Didn’t your parents ever tell you about him?”

Mert stopped herself, thinking hard before she spoke again. Obviously she hadn’t, but lying was her forte.

“They might have, but I don’t remember,” Mert said with curiosity.

“But you know who He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is, right?” Goyle said, having caught wind of the conversation.

“No,” Mert said as she shook her head “I’m pretty closed in. My parents only ever tell me what I need to know... but the name sounds familiar though.”

Draco turned in his seat to lean over and to speak to Mert.

“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...” Draco dropped his voice to a whisper “... Voldemort, was a powerful dark wizard. He hunted down Muggles and proved that they had stolen magic from wizards and witches. Father thinks that if it hadn’t been for him, our world might have been discovered and then they’d have killed us all.”

“But what does he have to do with Harry?” Mert asked, her brows knitting together.

“Harry was just a baby when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named walked in and killed his parents,” Draco said flatly “His mother was Muggle but his father was pure-blood. He used the Killing Curse on Harry, but Harry survived and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named died instead.”

Mert fell silent and Draco motioned for Goyle to move her pumpkin juice closer to her. Muggles sounded like hideous beasts – surely Dumbledore couldn’t allow people like that into the school?

“That’s horrible,” Mert said before she took a quick swig of her pumpkin juice “But that’s no excuse to be rude. I’ll let him off this time.”

Draco smirked and Crabbe and Goyle copied him.

“We have to head off to class soon,” Draco said.

Before Mert could ask why, she heard a loud bell ring out through the halls.

“That was louder than what I expected,” she said as she rubbed at her ears.

“Father warned me about it,” Draco said with a proud smile “Why didn’t your parents tell you?”

“My father doesn’t really like telling stories. He’s always working hard,” Mert said bleakly “I wouldn’t

be here if it weren’t for him.”

“I suggest you get a move on,” Gemma Farley said from behind them “Don’t want to be late to your classes the first day now, do you?”

Mert, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy all shook their heads. Draco just stood up and began walking, the three others following behind him hurriedly. As they followed Draco, Mert began memorising the way down toward the Slytherin Common Room and remembered the door near to it. They entered and Mert had a sudden compulsion to bring up the food she had eaten at breakfast. The walls were covered in jars and small vials full of repulsive ingredients and even pickled animals and body parts. She was surprised the boy with the toad hadn’t brought up his food, considering the pallor of his skin. Or perhaps it was the low lighting that made him look that way? Mert didn’t have time to ask. Professor Snape – her Head of House – entered the room, his robes flowing behind him like black drapes in a drafty room. He moved to the front of the class and began calling out names. He stopped at one in particular and Mert began to like him already.

“Ah yes,” he said with a soft yet menacing tone “Harry Potter. Our new... **celebrity**.”

Snape’s eyes drifted to Mert whilst Draco, Crabbe and Goyle snickered amongst themselves. Snape was the one who had gone to Mert’s aid and proclaimed her a member of the land of the living – she wondered why he hadn’t said anything to her like the other teachers. They were all so concerned but he was completely indifferent, aside from this mere second of attention. As Snape began rambling on to Harry about various potion ingredients and his lack of ability in Potion-making, Mert let herself grin. She also almost laughed when she saw Hermione Granger off to the side, her arm raised and seemingly reaching for the ceiling of the dungeon. However, when Snape told them to start writing down the things he’d said, Mert’s grin fell and her quill and parchment were out at once. The scratching of quills on parchment filled Mert’s ears and she was suddenly immersed in writing down her notes. It was almost calming not to have people talking and whispering like they did in the Great Hall and she found it oddly soothing. Once their notes were written, Professor Snape separated the Slytherins and Gryffindors into pairs. Mert ended up with Pansy and they began making a potion he claimed would cure boils. Professor Snape was swirling around, checking people’s cauldrons to see their progression through the weighing of dried nettles, crushing snake fangs... any of the practical elements they could possibly make a mistake on, constantly criticising the Gryffindors and praising Draco for the way he had stewed horned slugs. _Whatever they are_ , Mert thought with an inward chuckle. Suddenly Mert could hear a loud hissing and noticed that a bright, acid green smoke was beginning to fill the room. The boy who always lost his toad – Neville – had melted a boy named Seamus’s cauldron into a twisted blob on their bench. If the cauldron hadn’t been sitting on the table in the first place, Mert would never have known it was a cauldron simply by looking at it. The potion was spreading across the floor, small tendrils burning holes in her shoes and in Pansy’s, causing them to squeal and stand on their stools, a few more Slytherin and Gryffindor students suffering the same shameful fate. Neville fell to the ground covered in the potion, breaking out in lots of angry red boils. For once, Mert didn’t have a smart remark for that.

“Idiot boy!” the man snarled, swishing his wand about and clearing the potion away.

As Mert clambered down from her stool, she and the others witnessed Snape’s fury.

“I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

Neville made nervous, pained whimpers as boils sprang up over his face. For a moment he made eye contact with Mert, trying to earn some sympathy, but she only looked away. _I’m not supposed to be their friend_ , she thought sullenly, _but I can at least hope that he’ll pull through alright_.

“Take him to the hospital wing,” Snape spat in Seamus Finnigan’s direction; he turned to Harry and Ron, who had been on the opposite table to that of Neville and Seamus.

“You – Potter – why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills?”

Mert looked at Pansy and saw that she was grinning from ear to ear. Harry did seem like the kind of person who’d coast on his fame, but the look on his face said that that wasn’t true. He seemed almost infuriated that Snape was making this accusation. Then again, it wouldn’t exactly be beneath Harry to do that. He had already been cruel enough to Draco on the train, so why would he stop his bad streak now? Ron kicked Harry before he could speak and Mert eyed them both before continuing on with the lesson as if nothing had happened. At the end of the less-than-gratifying lesson, Mert made her way to another class with Pansy in the lead, yet again helping her around with Mert clinging to her sleeve. They entered the room and saw a squat man standing on a pile of books, a wand in his hand.

“Please take your seats class,” said the man from atop his odd perch as the Slytherins entered the room “I am Professor Flitwick and I will be teaching you Charms this year.”

Mert smiled and took her seat between Goyle and Draco, fumbling in her bag for the feather that had been on the list of required items for the year. Mert also pulled out her short wand and held it at the ready, waiting for her instructions from Professor Flitwick. Secretly, Mert found it amusing that his name could be seen as a play on words – a lit wick – just like the candles in the Great Hall. Draco noticed Mert’s smirk and she whispered her thoughts to him and he simply nodded, listening closely to Professor Flitwick.

“... now repeat after me, _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” Flitwick said, careful to enunciate the incantation carefully.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” Mert and the other Slytherin’s repeated in a bored drawl.

“Come now,” said Professor Flitwick “it may seem tedious, but Charms are the basis for most other forms of magic. If you want to succeed as Salazar Slytherin and the other founders of Hogwarts did, then this is one of the most crucial steps in your learning! So please, do try to enjoy it. I may present a small award to those who can successfully perform the incantation by, say... the start of next semester?”

Immediately the entire class perked up – thought Mert was already thoroughly interested in the spells – and smiled back at Professor Flitwick.

“Much better!” Flitwick shrilled from atop his perch on the books “Now, say it once again; _Wingardium Leviosa_.”

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” they repeated, this time with a lot more life in their voices.

“Beautiful – now we will learn the wand movement for the incantation,” Flitwick announced, raising one of his stubby arms higher.

“What did he say the spell did?” Crabbe asked from the left of Draco.

Mert rolled her eyes.

“ _Wingardium_ and _Leviosa_ obviously have something to do with wings and levitating,” she whispered.

Draco passed her an aggressive glare but said nothing – Mert hadn’t seen it.

“Smarter that I thought,” Draco grumbled in the direction of Crabbe’s ear “but far less annoying than Pansy.”

“The movement is quite simple – swish and flick,” Professor Flitwick squeaked “Swish on the _Wingardium_ and flick toward the end of _Leviosa_ for the best affect. And be sure to point the wand at the feather to keep control over it.”

The Slytherins all picked up their wands, and all from around the room, varying shrills sounded out.

Off to Mert’s right, Millicent Bullstrode said “Well it came off the table – better than nothing.”

“A very good first attempt Miss Bullstrode!” said Professor Flitwick.

Mert stared at people around the room making their feather’s hover for a couple of seconds and then dropping like a stone.

“Concentrate hard on that feather,” said Flitwick with a slight deepening to his high-pitched voice “You want it to soar and glide down like the bird it came from rather than fall to the Earth.”

Mert closed her eyes for a moment and played out what she would do in her head before lifting her wand and aiming it at the feather.

“ _Wingardium_... ” Mert gave a brusque swish of her wand.

“ _... Leviosa_ ,” she said clearly, giving her wand a quick flick so that it was now pointing at the feather.

A strange tingling sensation moved along her arm, toward her wand and then the feather began to raise itself off the table. Mert lifted the wand a little higher and the tingling surged in her fingers, making the feather lift to the same height as her green tie.

“Splendid work Ms Goldsworth!” Flitwick trilled from the front of the room.

Draco had just finished making his feather lift up off the table and he scowled.

“now comes the hard part Ms Goldsworth – bringing the feather down gently rather than letting the magic wear out and having it fall without grace,” said Flitwick with anticipation in his eyes.

Mert panicked – she hadn’t thought that far ahead. She was focused on making the feather float and move, but not come back down again. This would be embarrassing. Mert lowered her wand and felt the tingling in her arm flow back toward her shoulder and the feather slowly glided to the table.

“Nobody is perfect the first time,” Flitwick said as people began to whisper and stare at Mert “Charms is not an easy art to master Ms Goldsworth. Try not to be too hard on yourself. For your efforts and those of Mr Malfoy, 20 points to Slytherin.”

Draco perked up and suddenly forgot his anger, clapping a hand to Mert’s arm.

“We’ve got two different halves of the spell right!” he said happily “I can help you with the rest if you like?”

Mert held Draco’s gaze for a moment and a smirk shifted her lips to one side.

“Sounds lovely,” she said was she picked up her wand again.

After some time the bell rang again, signifying the time allocated to eat Lunch. Everybody packed their satchels and walked away to the Great Hall.


End file.
